A Special Case
by SailorOfShips
Summary: It all started with a touch… A gentle hand on the small of my back as we both hunched over the soundboard. Her hand lingered for just a moment too long as she played back our most recent track and asked my opinion on whether the "boosted mids" or "boosted highs and lows" sounded better. I had no idea what she meant and I told her this, but I'd stopped listening at this point.


**Finally got around to writing this prompt for Duh-manda. After a handful of PC problems, I had to start all over, but hopefully this is what you were imagining.**

 **A Special Case**

I'll never forget the day I met Beca Mitchell. I'd finally gotten through to the managers at Sony Music and I was excited to meet with their breakthrough producer. I'd heard it was one of the best producers in the music industry and she had a reputation for making sure Sony's newest artists only had the best.

It never occurred to me that this "producer" everyone kept telling me about might have been THE producer, as in THE Beca Mitchell… Sony's hottest asset at the moment.

I took a deep breath as I stepped through the sliding doors and into the main lobby of SME. I was greeted with a warm smile as a leggy blonde came to my aid. Her name was Aubrey and she gave me a brief tour of the building as she escorted me to Beca Mitchell's studio.

I may or may not have made a fool of myself as Aubrey introduced us. All I could remember thinking was how I was standing less than 10ft away from BECA MITCHELL and I was going to get to work with her exclusively. I remember shaking her hand and stumbling over my words as one corner of her mouth curled upwards, then it occurred to me that this was also the woman who produced 90% of the songs on my itunes "Ladyjams" playlist…

Once Aubrey left us alone, Beca led me further into the studio and shut the door behind us.

"So," She started, "Chloe, is it?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded as Beca made her way over to the leather sofa, plopping down into it unceremoniously.

She snorted and I couldn't help but frown as I wondered what was so funny.

"Are you going to join me, or are you just going to stand by the door and look pretty?" She teased, patting the empty cushion next to her.

I remember fumbling over my words for the first few minutes as she asked about my life story and my goals and just the basic questions every interviewer asks. I didn't think much of it. She was kind of like my boss, but she treated me like an equal. Anytime she'd ask me a question, there was genuine interest in her eyes. But not just in her eyes. She listened with her whole body. Her breathing would slow and she'd turn to face me fully, as if what I had to say was actually important.

We were fast friends. So fast, that we often treaded the line between friends and something more. Over time, the line became more and more blurred until we found ourselves passed out on the leather sofa, tangled in each other after a late night of recording.

It all started with a touch…

A gentle hand on the small of my back as we both hunched over the soundboard. Her hand lingered for just a moment too long as she played back our most recent track and asked my opinion on whether the "boosted mids" or "boosted highs and lows" sounded better. I had no idea what she meant and I told her this, but I'd stopped listening at this point.

I was too busy admiring the excitement in her eyes as she tried to explain how each slider on the soundboard affected the music coming through the speakers. Then, I found myself admiring the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek every time she blinked…and the slope of her nose…and the way her tongue darted out occasionally to wet her lips…

And just HER.

When she finally turned to face me again, we almost bumped noses because of how much closer we'd gotten. I could feel her breath tickling my lips and I wondered, as her gaze fell to my lips, if she wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss her.

Well, I got my answer about 5 seconds later when our lips met and she led me to the couch. The track was long forgotten as it played on a loop through the speakers, drowning out our cries of pleasure.

This became a regular thing…

For the next few months, Beca and I stuck to our ritual of staying late at the studio (because hey, we had a deadline to meet) and occasionally meeting outside of the studio to exchange ideas over a cup of coffee or dinner. It wasn't until months later, when my album had been released and we were still doing these things that we realized that we were actually dating.

Three and a half years later, we're still going strong, but not a whole lot has changed. I'm ready to get serious, but it's hard to tell if Beca is on the same page.

She agreed to move in, but she's been so secretive the past few weeks. Then, a few days ago, she got assigned to a new artist named Stacie "Ecstacy" Conrad. She's young, pretty, talented, and she's got all the qualities I had when I first started. She's got that child-like excitement and the charming naivety that Beca always teased me about when I first started.

I can't help but worry, especially with Beca being so private and secretive lately. I don't know if I'm losing her, but I'm not going to sit around and wait to find out. So I offered to collab with the newbie, in order to keep an eye on her.

If I remember correctly, Beca was the one to kiss me. Who's to say she wouldn't do it again with some other star struck girl? Was that like her "thing"? Maybe we were never as serious as I thought and I was just another girl that fell for her charm. How many girls had she taken to that couch before me?

I'm brought out of my thoughts by the sound of Stacie's obnoxious laugh coming through the speakers of the studio. Beca and I are seated in front of the soundboard, watching Stacie through the window to the vocal booth. I've been watching Beca, but I've been watching Stacie especially.

Any time Beca says something even remotely funny, Stacie laughs a little too loud, or she'll stand just a little too close to Beca when we're playing back the track. She'll bat those eyelashes and lean into Beca as she touches an arm…and she'll occasionally (I've counted 14 times today) shoot a wink or blow a kiss through the vocal window.

And Beca doesn't do or say anything to stop it. She just flushes red and continues on.

It's been the cause of most of our arguments lately…

* * *

"Are you SERIOUSLY going to act like there isn't a pretty young brunette trying to seduce you?" I feel myself saying, once we finally make it home. "She's THROWING herself at you!"

Beca rolls her eyes, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the rack by the front door. "Okay. She is…so what?"

Her nonchalance rarely gets to me, but I'm already ticked off so I blow up before I can stop myself.

"SOOO, why haven't you told her that you're in a committed relationship?"

Beca's mouth opens and closes as she tries to form a response. "I don't know,"

"I think you DO know. I think you purposely 'forgot' to tell her…With the way you act when she flirts with you, I can't help but think you want to lay her out over that couch and have your way with her."

It was a low blow and I knew it. I regretted it the moment Beca's jaw dropped. "That is NOT fair. You were a special case."

"Was I? … Some hot young brunette walks into your studio like she just walked straight out of a Victoria's Secret ad and you're drooling and fumbling over yourself like a teenage boy!"

Beca shakes her head in an attempt to convince me I'm wrong, but it's all she can do. She doesn't know what to say. I take this opportunity to continue on up the stairs for a shower, just needing a moment alone."

"I guess I can't really blame you…," I continue, shedding my clothes once I reach the bedroom. "She's barely legal and I'm pushing thirty. I'm just some old random and you're Beca Mitchell-"

That's when I heard Beca running up the stairs. She must have taken them two at a time, because she's at my side in a matter of seconds, taking my face in her hands. "Chloe, STOP…you're not just some random."

I sniffle and I immediately feel stupid because I can fear tears threatening to spill over my cheeks. I'm not even sure where all this came from today, but I couldn't stop once I started.

Beca looks scared and a bit hurt when she speaks again. "Look…I don't know what to tell you. I don't just go around sleeping with my clients. And I really hope you know me well enough after 3 years to know that I'd never cheat on you…I love you. SO much."

She plants a kiss on my forehead and backs away from me, shaking her hands out as she releases a deep breath.

"From the moment I met you, I knew I had to have you. And, I'll admit that at first I only wanted sleep with you. But…then, I heard you sing and…we'd sit in the studio talking for hours about our inspirations and our dreams. I couldn't help myself. I fell SO hard, SO fast. It was actually kind of embarrassing."

I feel myself smiling as I try to wipe the mist from my eyes.

"I spent weeks waiting for a sign that I wasn't the only one feeling this 'thing' between us. This awesome 'thing' that just WORKS."

"You weren't the only one," I find myself smiling fondly at the memory of our first kiss. I shake my head and lower my gaze to the carpet. "I know you love me. I'm sorry"

"You're not the only one at fault here. I should've told Stacie about us. And, I'm going to…first thing tomorrow morning,"

There's a finger lifting my chin then lips are on mine…firm, but gentle lips moving against mine, lighting a fire in the pit of my core. The fire grows and spreads to my limbs as our kisses become less gentle and more urgent.

"I need…to show you...how special…you are." Beca manages between kisses, her hands palming my hips as her lips move to my neck, marking me then soothing the marks with her tongue. My eyes flutter closed as I just focus on the feeling.

"Can I show you?" She whispers once she reaches the spot just below my ear. The spot that always drives me crazy.

Before I know it, I'm on my back and Beca's fingers are fumbling clumsily with the buttons of her shirt as she continues her assault on my neck, leaving me a blubbering writhing mess beneath her as I desperately try to find friction. Beca squeaks in surprise once I flip our positions.

The only thing I love more than letting Beca have her way when she's working over me is the way she looks at me when I'm about to have my way with her. There's this perfect balance of lust and fondness…like she wants to rip my clothes off and ravish me but she also wants to cherish and protect me like I hold the greatest secrets of the Earth.

Seeing that look in her eyes always reminds me just how loved and just how lucky I am.

"You're beautiful," She mouths, running her hands up my thighs anxiously as I lift my tee over my head.

I barely have the shirt off before I feel Beca's hands running over the bare skin of my abdomen, taking a moment to admire the dips and curves before continuing further north. I can tell she's growing impatient, because her lower lip has found its way between her teeth and she's grinding against me, pants of desperation and frustration leaving her lips. Then my jeans are being unzipped and her hand is in my underwear, teasing me in the best ways, until she's tired of that and begins to thrust upward…and there we both are, impatient and half undressed reaching deeper and deeper into each other as we try to usher one another over the edge into bliss…

It's a lot like the first time, actually. We reach our peak together, kissing sloppily as moans are swallowed and whines are muffled. It takes a moment for us to catch our breath, but we were never good at keeping our hands to ourselves. We're right back at it, and before long, hours have passed and Beca's slipping away to the closet, a string of profanities leaving her mouth as she moves through the dark cool air typical of a winter night. (It also doesn't help that she's braving against the chill with nothing more than her skin. We took the time to undress properly around round 3 or 4.)

When she returns, she's holding a small ring box. "I actually wanted to do this a few weeks ago, but there never seemed to be a right time." She starts.

"Omg…Beca?" Is this what I think it is?

Beca only smiles and nods, kneeling beside the bed, lowering the box to eye level. "I know this isn't the ideal situation, but I don't think I can wait any longer and I'm really hoping my nakedness will help my case." She smiles hopefully, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "Chloe Beale? Will you marry-"

"YESS! Omg!" I'm pulling her onto the bed and shower her with kisses as she laughs and slides the ring onto my finger. I finally pull away and take a look at the ring realizing I hadn't even glanced at it. It could've been a ringpop for all I knew.

But it wasn't. It was quite possibly the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. Diamond studded…golden with silver trim…diamonds within diamonds…

It was huge. I almost felt guilty for accepting it.

"You know," Beca breaks the silence after a few moments of silent snuggling. "This is really going to throw a curveball at our sex-life. I should've gotten you something smaller"

Of course that would be her concern, I chuckle. "We'll figure something out. We always do"


End file.
